


know better

by preromantics



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesse used to have a plan, but now that it's come down to the end, he can't go through with it. <i>The thing is, Jesse was all set only a few weeks ago.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	know better

**Author's Note:**

> For pau494, whose drabble prompt came up with the song 'Know Better Learn Faster' by Thao With The Get Down Stay Down.

_but i need you to be  
better than me  
and you need to do  
better than you_

-

It came down to the end of it, where Jesse really had to go through with it. Mrs. Corcoran had already seen him twice since they'd gotten to the regionals venue, and she's practically been breathing down his neck.

"We don't have much time," she'd said, "do it _now._"

But instead of doing it, breaking things off with Rachel, Jesse is sitting with his back against the wall of New Direction's assigned practice room, watching Rachel sitting next to the piano warming up, all pure radiant vocals -- the lines of her face, the wonderful curves of her lips, set in determination to win.

All of the club is happy, bouncing and warming up in staccato bursts of notes and sounds. When Kurt walks by, half in his outfit for the first number and half in some ridiculous sweater that looks like it came from the pelt of Bigfoot, he kicks at Jesse's foot.

"What's with you, St. James?" he asks, face cocked to one side. "I would've thought you'd be up there trying to show us all up with your amazing warm-up skills by now."

Jesse laughs and can't come up with something to snap back with before Kurt rolls his eyes and walks away, humming some Queen and laughing when Brittany tries to harmonize but gets the words completely wrong.

Across the room, Rachel smiles at him, beams. She's proud of the club, of herself, of him. They all know they are going to win, especially now that Jesse is on their side.

  
-

  
Jesse excuses himself from the room after a little while, edging past Mr. Schuester, whose gaze follows him suspiciously out into the backstage corridor.

He feels as conflicted as he ever has; stuck in place without a choice to make that won't hurt someone.

Mrs. Corcoran comes up from behind him and he almost jumps, so out of his usual cocksure feeling. "Did you do it yet?" she asks, face stern.

Jesse raises his head, tries to level their heights. "Not yet," he says, faltering. He searches for a way not to make her angry but not to commit himself to going through with it. "I was thinking it would be best if I waited. You know, right before they go on stage so the club doesn't have time to comfort her. You never know what stress could do, right?"

He pulls it out of his ass but Mrs. Corcoran's smile raises in a wicked way. "As long as you stick to the plan," she says. "We've got your space ready as soon as you walk out on stage."

She goes to walk down the hallway and then pauses and turns back around to face Jesse, right before he slouches against the wall. "I called your father," she says, "I made sure all the transfer papers were in place today. We all look forward to having you back in school on Monday after the competition. After the victory."

"Yeah," Jesse says as acknowledgment, distant, and Mrs. Corcoran walks down the hall, her heels echoing down the corridor and right through Jesse's head.

  
-

  
The thing is, Jesse was all set only a few weeks ago. He had a plan, the club had a plan, everything was going to work. Seduce Rachel, break her heart the day of regionals, slide smoothly into place on Vocal Adrenaline and take home the top spot.

Except he fell a little too fast in light of their compatibility, in how much he actually ended up wanting Rachel. In how much he got caught staring at her face when she spoke, about how the soft skin on the swell of her hips felt against his palm. She broke his heart first and he was determined to make her pay, but ended up falling harder the second time around. It was irrational, stupid -- it was supposed to be about winning and losing, and that was it, but he failed.

He hit a bad note, the worst of them all, and yet in some ways he wouldn't have changed the past few weeks.

Now Jesse had to decide what to do. He was officially no longer a student at McKinley. His transfer papers had been filed back and his uncle had moved his stuff back to his parents house; that was a done deal. So even if Jesse took the high road and competed with New Directions, with Rachel by his side, they'd be automatically disqualified for having a student from another district on their team.

He could go along with the original plan and sing with Vocal Adrenaline, ensuring a win for them, keeping his coach happy and adding another shining bullet to his list of high school achievements -- but that would mean giving up Rachel, too, for good. Giving up the friends he made, the faces he'd come to be amused by daily, to look forward to.

He could explain everything to all of them, to Rachel, try to make them see, and ultimately lose on both sides, left only with himself.

Instead of doing anything, though, Jesse frowns and sinks down the carpet on the floor of the hallway, listening to the mixed voices of various team warm-ups in rooms around him, thinking about the way Rachel's hair looks in the sunlight and how her hands fit just perfectly in his.

  
-

  
Mr. Schuester is the one that comes out for him, leaning down next to Jesse on the dirty carpet and sitting there silently. Jesse can practically feel the disappointment radiating off of him.

"Emma -- Miss. Pillsberry called me inside," Mr. Schuester says, looking at the wall across from them. "She told me saw the processed papers for your transfer, dated yesterday."

Jesse tries to sit with his back straight against the wall, but he can't figure out what to say. It's true.

"You can't compete with us, Jesse," Mr. Schuester says. Jesse can feel him look over, but he doesn't look up.

"I know," Jesse says, and it sounds more miserable than he means it to.

Mr. Schuester nods, presses his lips together when Jesse turns to him.

"I'm sorry," Jesse adds, laughing a little, "I actually didn't want -- not now, anyway."

"What are you going to tell Rachel?" Mr. Schuester asks, instead of acknowledging his mistakes, standing. "Everyone?"

Jesse shrugs, stays on the floor. "Good luck," he says in lieu of knowing what to say, when Mr. Schuester starts retreating, heading back to the warm-up room. "I know you guys are really the best," Jesse adds, "Maybe not the most refined, the most show-stopping, but. You can win this."

Mr. Schuester turns back just the tiniest bit, giving Jesse a wry sort of smile. "Thanks," he says, "althought we'd be even better if you'd stuck around."

It doesn't sound like anger, it's not at all how Jesse knows Mrs. Corcoran will react. It's just disappointment, again.

"Yeah," Jesse agrees, but Mr. Schuester has already headed inside.

Jesse gets up before anyone can come looking for him, feeling like a coward and sort of like a failure, which is one hell of a new combination. He takes a back exit and sits on top of a stack of wooden crates against the back wall, the auditorium behind him. He can hear the music of each group's performance just barely, and sings along with both Vocal Adrenaline and New Directions, staring at what he can barely make out as his reflection in his shined dress shoes the whole time.

  
-

  
It's probably an hour after the muted music from inside the auditorium behind his back stops. The sun is slanted, throwing Jesse in an almost too-cool shade behind the building, but he's not ready to get up.

Rachel comes out, and he knows it's her stepping across the pavement before he even looks up. She looks gorgeous, glowing in her gold stage dress, eyes bright even though her face is set hard, eyebrows knit together.

"We won," she says, edging to stand next to the crates Jesse is sitting on. She leans her elbows on them. "Without you, and by a mile."

Jesse nods, smiling despite himself, imagining the club celebrating right then, singing in their crazy way, uncontrolled and happy. Nothing like the refined and expected way Vocal Adrenaline would've taken their win. "You had it in you," he says, looking down at her. He wants to look away, but doesn't.

"We did," Rachel agrees, "even before you came along."

Jesse nods again, laughs a little low. "I know that."

Rachel clears her throat, lifts her skirt a little and finds her footing to climb up the crates, sitting up there next to Jesse. "I guess," she says, a little breathless from the climb, "I understand why you did it. I wanted to win a lot, too."

"It wasn't just about me," Jesse defends, remembering all the promises Mrs. Corcoran had made to him, because it sort of was. He wanted to be the star.

"Everything is about us," Rachel says, laughing. "We want to be the best, the brightest. The stars." She knocks her shoulder into his.

Jesse doesn't say anything -- he wants to wrap an arm around her, or kiss her, or say I'm sorry, but instead he stays still.

"I can't forgive you," Rachel says, suddenly serious, "I need you to know that. But I appreciate that you didn't go through with it, and -- even though we're all sort of mad at you right now, we'll all miss you. Some more than others, probably."

"Where do you fall?" Jesse asks, instead of the million other things he wants to say.

"I'll miss you the most," Rachel says, staring forward, and when she shrugs lightly, Jesse can feel it against his entire side.

_I kind of love you,_ Jesse wants to say, but doesn't. "And if I came back?" he asks.

"You'll have choir room clean up for the rest of the year, limited leads, and we're allowed to laugh at some of your outfits behind your back," Rachel lists. She looks over at him and smiles.

"Hey," Jesse says, "none of my outfits are worse than Kurt's -- I have _style_."

Rachel stares at him and laughs, rolling her eyes. Jesse leans in and kisses her lips, soft. "Do you want to come celebrate?" she asks, quiet after kissing him softly back.

"No," Jesse says, hopping off the crates and extending a hand to help her down. She looks a little shocked. "I've got some transfer papers to fill out again before Monday," he amends, smiling, "so I can stick around at McKinley."

Rachel grins, bright and wide, just the way Jesse loves about her. "You're still not off the hook," she says, despite her grin, "and won't be for a while."

Jesse picks her up in a hug and spins her, and she laughs high in his ear. "Got it," Jesse says, and watches her all the way to the door, feeling suddenly pretty okay.


End file.
